


Some day I'll learn to breathe again

by Side_effect_of_the_meds



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Lung Cancer, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, death of dadmack, he gets over it real quick, it's not a super big one tho, its just andrew being big sad, maybe he cries a lil too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Side_effect_of_the_meds/pseuds/Side_effect_of_the_meds
Summary: With Wymack dead, Andrew begins to question his worth.
Relationships: Abby Winfield/David Wymack, Andrew Minyard & David Wymack, Kevin Day & David Wymack, Kevin Day/Aaron Minyard, Matt Boyd/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	Some day I'll learn to breathe again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andlec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andlec/gifts).



The death of David Wymack had been inevitable. There wasn't a single soul that hadn't seen it coming from a mile away but that didn't mean that it had hurt any less. In fact, it was almost worse. He'd been hospitalized for several months prior and it had been absolute Hell for him. Despite his age, Wymack was never one to sit around. Trapped in his hospital room, he'd grown restless quickly. To help him cope, once every two weeks, Andrew boarded the plane out to Columbia of his own free will to spend the weekend seated at the foot of Wymack's bed. Every time Andrew returned, he looked even worse off than before. 

On November 5th, Wymack lost his battle to lung cancer and Andrew was there to see the light fade from his dark eyes. He didn't say a word for the remainder of the month. Most people wouldn't have noticed but, to Matt and Neil, Andrew's silence was deafening for his silences had always spoken far louder than he ever had. It broke Matt and Neil's hearts to see him so miserable but there was nothing they could do to ease the pain. That didn't mean they hadn't tried. They put on his favorite shows and curled up on the couch together, inviting him to join. All Andrew ever did was turn the tv off. When they offered him kisses, he pushed them away. Neil had nearly cried when he'd come home to find that the gallon of ice-cream he'd left for Andrew in the freezer sitting in the trash can completely untouched. Matt had held him close then, trying his best to be strong for the both of them. 

Andrew almost didn't notice. Ever since Wymack's death, a weight had settled atop Andrew's chest, and, often, he found himself unable to breathe. Every time he sucked in a deep breath, he heard Wymack's own labored breathing and hacking cough. He'd been in so much pain before he'd died. He hadn't deserved that. 

"If we got what we deserved, we wouldn't be foxes, Andrew," Wymack had said before his lungs had seized up, sending him into another coughing fit. Wymack was right. If Andrew had gotten what he deserved, he'd have been six feet under before Wymack had even had the chance to come marching down to Columbia to offer him a place on his line. The night before the funeral, Andrew bolted awake, clawing at his heaving chest. 

"Drew," he heard Neil saying. "Breathe, baby." Andrew gulped some air down and promptly choked. He stumbled out of bed into the bathroom where he emptied out his guts into the toilet bowl. He stayed there with his forehead pressed against the cool porcelain. It took a while for his breath to stabilize but, when it did, he got shakily to his feet. He'd barely managed a few steps before the gave out. Thankfully, Matt was waiting to catch him. He offered Andrew a cup of water and refused to move until he'd rinsed out his mouth. 

"Let me carry you back to bed," Matt begged. 

"Don't touch me," Andrew snarled as he swatted Matt's hand away. He stumbled out into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Using the last of his strength, he dragged himself back to his corner. The room went dark a few moments later and Andrew felt the bed shifting as Matt crawled back into place. The sound of Matt's soft sobs were like a knife to Andrew's heart but he didn't know how to apologize. Instead, he closed his eyes as Matt sought solace in Neil. _You're so useless that he didn't even look to you for comfort. He doesn't need you_ , a voice in his head hissed. Sleep didn't come to him for the rest of the night. 

The next morning, Andrew let the others get out of bed before him. Once they'd left the room, he brushed his teeth and showered. A suit had been left out on the bed for him. Andrew distinctly remembered the day he'd bought it. 

"Do any of your suits actually fit you?" Wymack had grumbled. Taking Andrew's lack of a response as confirmation, he'd dragged him down to the store and stood him atop the wooden block. "He doesn't like to be touched," Wymack said, stepping in front of the sales associate. "I'll take the measurements. Just tell me how." With a skeptical look, the tailor handed over the tape measure. Wymack looked to Andrew in a silent question. He didn't begin until Andrew gave him a short nod.

"Your son doesn't look very much like you," the tailor said while Wymack worked. 

"He takes after his mother," Wymack replied without missing a beat. Andrew had turned away with a scowl only to catch sight of his ears burning brightly in the mirror. They'd left not long after and the suit had arrived at Andrew's doorstep a few weeks later. Matt and Neil had insisted on sending Wymack a photo of Andrew in the suit. 

"What if he never gets a chance to see you wear it?" Neil had said. _Looks like you were right,_ _Neil_ , Andrew thought as he did up the last of the buttons. He stepped out of the room to find Matt and Neil already dressed. They stepped out of their room and made their way downstairs. In silence, Andrew drove the three of them down to the church for the funeral. 

Kevin, Abby, and Aaron were waiting on the steps. Taking one look at Kevin, Neil broke off from their group and raced up the stairs into his arms. As Matt and Andrew made their way up the stairs, they could hear the two of them speaking softly in French. The knot in Andrew's chest loosened as he realized that Kevin was sober. Matt went straight for Abby and hugged her close. Aaron sent Andrew a look before gesturing for him to follow. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Andrew trailed after his brother into the church. 

"My condolences," Aaron offered as he stopped in front of the casket. 

"He was your father-in-law," Andrew replied flatly. 

"He meant more to you than anyone else here," Aaron said. Andrew stepped up to the casket and peered inside. Seeing Wymack knocked the breath out of his lungs. Distantly, Andrew was aware of Aaron's receding footsteps but he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes from the sight before him. Andrew didn't know what they'd done to him in the mortuary but he looked nothing like himself. Some people said that the dead looked like they were asleep. Andrew had seen Wymack sleep before. He never looked this relaxed, probably the result of always having to look after his Foxes. Now that Andrew thought about it, even after retiring, Wymack hadn't let himself relax. Most days, he was down at the court, helping Dan coach and watching over her Foxes. He kept tabs on all his graduated kids too.

Only a few months before the diagnosis, in the middle of a game, Andrew had turned around. He still didn't know why he'd done it. All he knew was the second he had, he'd caught sight of Wymack sitting dead center behind Andrew's goal. Even after all these years, Wymack still had his back. After that, not a single shot had made it past him. When Andrew jogged out of the stadium, he found Wymack leaning against the hood of the Maserati. They'd gone out for drinks and, at the end of the night, Wymack had pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Andrew had shot him a scathing look that he'd opted to ignore. Andrew had quit smoking a few years ago at Matt and Neil's insistence. There wasn't a soul that wasn't begging Wymack to quit, none more adamant that he do so than Andrew himself. 

“I told you to stop smoking,” Andrew said, looking down at the corpse of the man he’d have been honored to call his father. “So did Kevin and Abby and Dan and Renee and Matt and Bee. Fuck you for all those times you called me stubborn. You’re even worse than me.” There was a long pause then as Andrew fought to control his breathing. His breaths were coming in short ragged bursts. He closed his eyes and he could almost feel the weight of a hand resting on his neck. Seared on the backs of his lids are a pair of dark brown eyes, every bit as harshly caring as Kevin’s. 

“Damnit, Minyard, breathe.” Wymack’s words echoed through Andrew’s skull. It took everything he had to suck in one breath and then another and another until he could finally breathe again. Prying his eyes back open, he forced himself to face reality. Never again would he stare into those hard brown eyes or feel the weight of that hand on the back of his neck. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he hissed. “I just don’t like being indebted to others.” With that, Andrew produced a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue from within his jacket and set it into the casket beside Wymack. “That’s for all the liquor I stole from your cabinet. I did the math and I’ve already paid you back for most of it. I was just one bottle short.” 

“Bullshit.” There was always a half-smile on Wymack’s face when he caught Andrew in a lie. He could practically hear it then. 

“Shut up, Coach,” he said as he closed the casket and turned on his heel.

No one moved to stop him as he left. He catches the look Matt and Neil share but neither of them follow him out. Andrew unlocked the doors of the Maserati and got into the driver’s seat. Resting his head on the headrest, he closed his eyes. _Renee will give them a ride back to the hotel,_ he told himself before starting the car. Andrew broke the speed limit on his way back but he didn’t care. 

Upstairs in his room, he tossed his jacket on the floor and kicked his shoes off before he flopped onto the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he felt his eyes starting to burn. The last time Andrew had cried had been eight years ago, brought on in the fit of hysteria he’d gone through as Proust forced him to relive his trauma. He hadn't thought he’d had it in himself to cry anymore, and yet, he felt hot tears slipping down his face. _It should have been you,_ the voice in his head hissed. _I'd tear the oxygen right out of my lungs if it would make him breathe_ again, Andrew thought. He didn’t know how long he’d lain there, only that, by the time the door opened, his tears had dried. 

“Drew?” Neil called. Andrew didn’t answer. He didn’t even move when they stepped into the room. 

“Oh, Andy,” he heard Matt say. The bed creaked and shifted beneath their weight. 

“Can we hold you?” Neil asked. 

“Yes.” Andrew lay still while the two of them curled up on either side of him. They wrapped their arms around him and Neil threw a leg over Matt, effectively caging Andrew in. There’d been a time when being boxed in like this would have been enough to set Andrew off. Now, rather than triggering a thousand bad memories to rise to the surface, a hundred good ones came instead. He didn't deserve this. "Why wasn't it me?" he asked no one in particular.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Matt asked, sitting up. 

"Why'd he have to die?" Andrew asked. 

"That's not what you said," Neil countered. His voice was dangerously low. 

"He didn't deserve to die," Andrew said. _But I do._ The words went unspoken but Andrew knew that the others heard them. Andrew continued to stare up at the ceiling until Matt caught hold of his chin and forced him to look him in the eye.

"Do you think that we wouldn't all still be here if it had been you?" he asked. "Do you really believe we wouldn't mourn you or that your death would be easier to stomach?" 

"You don't need me," Andrew bit out. "The Moriyamas aren't a problem anymore, you and Aaron have been clean for over eight years, and Robin's engaged. There are no more people for me to protect you from or problems for me to solve." 

"Just because we don't need you doesn't mean we don't want you," Neil said. "Andrew, we love you, and Coach did too." Andrew's chest seized at that. He turned to look Neil in the eye only to find that they'd frozen over in his anger. "I know you can't see it but Coach saw something worth saving in you. Do you know how much shit he went through, not just to get you on his team, but to keep you? He fought so damn hard to keep you around because he wanted to see you get better. And you have! You've grown so much. But he did not save you only for you to fall apart the second he was gone. You've made him **so** proud. Don't you dare disappoint him now." Silence settled over the three of them then. 

"Hold me. Yes or no?" Andrew asked. 

"Yes," Matt and Neil exhaled. Immediately they curled back up on either side of Andrew and wrapped their arms around him. 

"I love you both too," Andrew said very quietly. In the six years they'd been together, it was the first time he'd said the words out loud. 

“Look who’s getting soft now,” he could hear Wymack teasing. Andrew's breath hitched and the tears started to flow again. 


End file.
